I wanted to post Ellabella’s comment here for everyone to see. Hope you don’t mind me sharing it, sweetie, but it’s just so relevent:

Well, dear one, you read my post, so you know that my relationship with food is pretty much the same as yours. I try - oh, how I try - to like only what’s best for me, and 90% of the time I succeed. But that other 10%, if ignored, seems to gain strength in exile - just seems to keep growing until it busts out one day in the form of really awful cravings for things like hot fudge sundaes and the like. And if I give in to it - if I talk myself into going ahead and having one - I go through WEEKS of struggling again to get my appetite under control. Tiresome, really. Keep us updated on the lapband process. Sounds sensible, but that three-year-old in my head is still tantrumming over not being able to eat junk whenever she wants, you know? NEXT life, I intend to have a better relationship with food AND my body, and that’s the truth!
Hugs,
Z

It was your whole approach and your comment about that three year old in your head. Oh yes. Oh, I have one too, and she can spit her dummy at a moment’s notice.

In fact, she was there on Saturday night, at dinner with the family, and she nearly screwed up the whole night for me.

Did I mention we’d gone to Taco Bill’s? Melbourne’s take on Mexican food. Nothing like real Mexican, I’m reliably informed, but tasty and I do have a weakness for frijoles. Even tried something different from my usual, but there were frijoles, of course.

Well, we had nachos to share and then a nice main course and then the girl came and asked if we wanted coffee and dessert and everyone round the table (except me) said “no”.

So she went away.

And I was sitting there with dreams of chocolate sludge fading and NOT HAPPY!

I mean, it WASN’T FAIR.

Beloved had had a margarita and chilli beer. That was his dessert.

Poss had had a margarita.

Radio Boy and GF had filled up on that giant Tequila Sunrise, and although BF hadn’t had alcohol, he’d had a major slab of cake at home before we left.

So they all got treat and I got NOTHING and I tell you, that dummy was just about to become a projectile.

Just glad I didn’t let food stuff up a lovely evening.

As a kid I was never scared of monsters under the bed. Or in the wardrobe. Dust, yes. Mess, yes. Junk falling on me, yes. Not monsters, though. The only real monster in my life has been food. It hides in biscuit barrels and in the fridge. It ambushes me from fast food places and supermarket checkouts and petrol station queues. Food lurks like a ghost to haunt me at family gatherings, at outings at friends’ places, at trips to the movies and lunches out and even just having a cuppa in the afternoon is fraught with the threat of food. It has spoiled every birthday party I’ve ever been to.

When my kids were little, there used to be arguments at dinner time. Not “he/she got more than me” but “I’ve got more veggies than he/she does” (it’s not fair).

I am angry at food. I am at war with food. I hate it. I love it. I want it. I want it out of my life. Food is my enemy. Food keeps me alive.

There is no balance for me with food.

Today I ordered a copy of 2 of Linda Spangle’s books. I’m getting Life is Hard, Food is Easy and 100 Days of Weight Loss. Next week I’m having my first visit with the gastric banding team. Beloved is coming with me, just because he has questions he wants answered, too, and I’m glad to have him there with me.

Radio Boy came for a visit on the weekend. He insisted that we had to go out to dinner on Saturday night, so GF came too, and so did Poss and BF. It was BF’s birthday on Sunday, so a bit of a double celebration, really.

Here are Radio Boy and GF filling up on some ridiculously extreme drink. He had to hand over his driver’s license before they would give him the drink because people keep stealing the glasses otherwise (make the perfect home for a Betta splendens). With every glass of this drink comes a free hat which is described in the menu as a sombrero:

But that’s not a sombrero!

Now that:

is a sombrero!

Here are Poss and BF having a good time too:

BF wasn’t allowed to drink that night because he is still on his P plates and he was driving. Didn’t seem to bother him in the least though.

Oh, and speaking of Possums, I picked up a ringtail possum last week.

The silly thing was strolling about in the middle of a busy intersection and that’s not a safe place to be for anybody. I ran out and picked it up. The possum didn’t like this and it bit the hell out of my hands. Do you know how much damage a ringtail can do when riled??? Not a whole lot, actually. It hardly even broke the skin. I got it safely back to the vet’s, and I hope it’s okay now.

So, anyway, that’s me for the past few days. Once again I’m off to work tonight, and hoping for NO repeat of last night’s incident where a woman accused me of stealing money from her son. Seven little teenage boy hands had shoved money in my face. I needed $77 to give them 7 tickets. I took $80 and gave back $3. My manager checked my till and it balanced exactly. When I remembered the incident and suggested to the boy that one of his mates owed him money, the mother got up on her high horse and said that was just my opinion and she would be getting the opinion of the others involved. Well she can get all the opinions she cares to, or she can listen to what I told her: the truth. Shows a lack of understanding of the young (under 14) teenage boy’s mind if she doesn’t see how opportunistic they can be (I don’t believe the boy in question was being dishonest – just acting his age. Immature.)

And as for me and food, well, the war continues.

Well, I had my colonoscopy today. Although I didn’t come through as shiny as I’d hoped, it certainly wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

No cancer (whew!)

No polyps (whew!)

Turns out I have a diverticular disease. I’ll get the details of how to treat it when I see the GP in a couple of weeks, but basically I think it’s going to mean eating lots of fresh fruit and veggies and a high fibre diet.

H’m. Where’ve I heard that before?

Is this the universe’s way of making me lose weight?

Funny how yesterday, when I was not allowed to eat because of the medication, I could. Why can’t I have such focus every day? Why can’t I break it all up into separate moments of understanding that controlling what I eat is best for me?

Just a short blog tonight. Still tired from the sedative, though I did nap all day.

Thank you, everyone, for your thoughts and comments.